And Then There Was You
by luckydied
Summary: Claire and Shane are madly in-love; but what if Eve and Michael are not? What if Michael's vampirism is too much for Eve to deal with? Will he decide to go for a girl who is more understanding? Even if she the love of his best friends life?
1. Claire POV

"Morning," Michael breathed, smiling in my direction. I acknowledged him with a smile and a nod.

"How did you sleep?" As I peered at him over the rim of my coffee cup, I noticing he was sporting a glow.

"I slept great – had good dreams," he smirked and wriggled his eyebrows, giving her a wink.

"Well, as curious as I am, I have learned to never question teenage slash early twenties men about their dreams," I replied, smirking back. He threw his head back and laughed, shaking his head. Looking over at me, "What would you know about teenage boys' dreams?"

"Are you forgetting a certain Mr. Collins, boyfriend and pervert extraordinaire?" I ask, turning away as a blush turns my cheeks crimson. His expression sobered immediately, and my forehead creased in response. "No," he murmured more to himself than me, "couldn't forget that…"


	2. Michael's POV

_AUTHORS NOTE: Sorry, but it was just too let you know that this chapter will continue where the last one left of. I plan on doing all the chapters like this, unless it is vitally important to the storyline that I repeat something in someone else's POV, so if you want it different, drop me a review/message and let me know!_

**Michael's POV**

I looked at Claire and saw here giving me an odd look. "What?" I raised my eyebrows at her.

"Nothing," she shook her head and mumbled under her breath, "At least I hope it's nothing..." When she turned towards the kitchen window, a warm, honey-coloured glow lit-up her silhouette, and I could only stare, entranced at how angelic she looked. Warm and welcoming; how accepting and inviting and big-hearted she was. I scrunched my eyes up, and forced myself to look away. _Shane's girl; Claire is Shane's girl! _ _She's Shane's petit, curvy, smart, amazing, gorgeous girl. _Glancing over at Claire I watched her pour coffee into her cup, and then wrap her hand around it to pick it up again; _how can that get me hard?_

"Michael," Claire questioned, "Where did you go?"

"Huh?" I asked, confused as to what she was talking about.

"I have been repeating your name for the last five minutes."

"Oh, sorry," I muttered distracted. _Was I really out of it for that long?_

"No problem, but I'm going to go to school now, okay?" she looked concerned. Rushing to appease her, "I'll be fine," I attempted a smile "Just didn't get a lot of sleep."

"But…" Dawning on her the implications of what he had meant, she blushed and stuttered; it made his heart ache. Red tinted his vision; she believed he had been with _Eve? _

"N.." I started to correct her, but then stopped; how else was I going to explain it?

Smirking at her, I winked, "Yeah, you should get going."

"Ugh," She started stammering, and her cheeks burning brighter, turning an appealing shade of candy apple red. _Will she notice if I cross my legs?_ Claire gave me one last fleeting look, turned, grabbed her backpack from its spot at the kitchen table, and bolted out the door.


	3. Shane's POV

_**SHANE'S POV**_

I stood at the kitchen door listening to Claire and Michael's morning chatter. _They were flirting - no, __**Michael**__ was flirting! And __**my**__ Claire was completely oblivious. She didn't see it; the looks she got from guys. Maybe in high school, her petit body, with more brains than breasts, wasn't what guys always went for - but she was in college now. And she though she wasn't overly-curvaceous or tall, she was still feminine, with small perky little breasts that were just enough for a handful, and though her legs were short, they were shapely, and when they met in the middle, she was all well-rounded hips, small waist and a flat little tummy I could one day see round with my kid. And in the one place I didn't think I had to be on red alert, scanning everything any guy said, for offensive statements, or innuendos, I find my best friend, my brother, flirting with __**my**__ girl!_ I heard Claire calling Michael's name a few times, -_I bet your too busy ogling the girl who loves you like a big brother to bother answering! – _and whenhe finally did respond, -_she had better not have one of those tight illegally-fitting T-shirts on-_ she asked him what was wrong, and he gave her some bullshit reply_. Michael's only problem was going to be covering his boner._ _That's my girl; worried about everyone. But why does she have to be worried about him? _The only things that stopped me confronting Michael now were:

A) He has he Eve

B) He and Eve love each other

C)Claire loves Eve

D) Claire loves me

E) Claire would not hurt Eve or I

F) The flirting could be innocent, and

G) He loves Claire like a sister.

_He just made a comment about his sex life; how could that be __**innocent **__or__** brotherly**__? _Hearing Claire say goodbye I hid myself, waiting for her to come out of the kitchen. I waited until she was in front of me by about a step or so, then I clamped my arm around her small waist, and a hand over her deliciously pouty mouth. "Mmm," she struggled furiously, and even though she was trying to kick and scratch me to death, I was proud.

"Boo," whispered in to her ear, being sure to blow lightly, feeling her shiver. I let her down gently, sliding her soft, little body down every inch of mine until her feet were firmly on the floor. Then she turned around and…


	4. Eve's POV

EVE'S POV

I clunk down the stairs in my boots, to be faced with another Claire-Shane-making-a-porno-in-the-living room moment. I whistled, "Collins," I holler, finally managing to break them apart.

"Huh?" The poor guy looked so dazed and confused I almost wanted to take pity on him.

"If you're done trying to seduce and corrupt our resident minor, please dislodge your tongue from her throat," I finished on a heavy exhale, smirking at the glare he sent me.

"Who said anything about _trying_ to seduce and corrupt her?" he gasped before resuming his game of tonsil tennis. I didn't know whether to be exasperated or amused, "Seriously? Stop kissing her and make my breakfast!"

"Go," Shane started mumbling in between kisses, and I could CB was trying to undo his pants, "Away!" He was starting to sound incoherent, and Claire nibbling at his neck wasn't helping. He pulled away and looked at Claire with a dazed expression.

"Go!" He mumbled it, but he looked like he wanted to attack her and gorge himself.

"What?" CB looked so confused, "Why?"

"Because you have College, and we have to be responsible and control our urges, and that is really hard with you nibbling and grinding and opening zippers!"

Claire looked wicked now, "It's not the only thing that's hard though, is it?" She was lightly running her fingertips across his zipper, and Shane gulped.

"Make your own breakfast," He threw over his shoulder as he passed me, a giggling Claire thrown over his shoulder.


	5. Michael's POV 2

No smut yet! Naughty people! ;)

_**Michaels POV**_

Laughing, Eve waltzed into the kitchen. I simply stared at her, waiting for her to acknowledge me. Closing the fridge door, she looked over at me like a deer in the headlights. Swallowing hard, she quirked a half-smile at me, and went over to the cupboard, pulling out her coffee cup, and filled it to the brim, being careful not to make eye contact with me the entire time.

"Hey, Michael," She still had not looked at me, keeping her eyes trained on the coffee pot.

"Eve." _It was inflectionless. And it shouldn't have been. It should have been happy and love-filled but it wasn't. I was awkward as fuck. I don't think we should speak every moment of everyday. But I'd seen Claire and Shane sit. Just sit. In silence. And it wasn't uncomfortable at all. And considering I've known Eve, -as a friend or as a boyfriend- longer than Claire and Shane had known each other, we should have no problems doing the same._ _Claire or Shane would walk into the kitchen, make coffee for the both of them, then the other would come in, and they would hug, share a good-morning kiss, and then work to make breakfast, sometimes in silence, sometimes chatting, all the while sharing more kisses and secret smiles. Over the table whilst eating they would meet one another's eyes, and share looks that only they could decipher, and fuck! Call me jealous, but I wanted that and my girlfriend was dodging me like a mouse dodges a trap. She looked tense as hell in case I wanted a hug or a kiss. We had made-love and fucked and everything in-between. And she was shy around me! How is that even possible? _

"So I was thinking," she cleared her throat nervously, "This really isn't working and I think we should stop fooling ourselves," she was pleading with her black-rimmed eyes for me to understand, "It would be best if we just didn't.."

"Stop!" _I could tell I was ruining her plan, but fuck I was pissed and when she looked over at me with eyes that begged for understanding, and a meek smile, whilst ducking her head, I could feel my Vampire come forth. She was looking scared and that pissed me off further! Did she think I would hurt her?_

"Mikey," God. She sounded tortured.

"Don't," I looked back at her, "Do not try to make this okay!"

"This is what is best for both of us!" She implored.

"NO, this is what's easiest for you! That's just how you're justifying it! If you're going to break my heart, at least have the decency to be honest about it! Tell me why, because you've lusted after me and chased me for years," I stopped to draw in breath, "So what has changed for you?"

"Stop!" She was begging, "Just please stop!"

_Objectively, I knew I was being unfair. But what did she expect? Gentleman-ly behavior? _

"No," I gritted my jaw and shook my head, "I won't stop!" I spat it at her, making her flinch. "Its because I'm a Vampire, isn't it?" I looked at her for a contradiction, "Or am I just not enough of a vampire for you?" She looked horrified, and close to tears, but I didn't stop. "Hmm?" I murmured, coming closer to her, "Do I not fit in with your twisted, Gothic ideals?"

The kitchen door opened and Claire stepped through, looking satisfied and bed-rumpled, with ruffled hair, but the smile upon her face fell as she pulled up short at the sight.

"Oh," She took in the scene. Me, fangs protruding, and Eve in tears; she looked at me questioningly as Eve seemed to be growing hysterical.

"Eve was just breaking up with me," I grimaced a smile. Claire looked between u, heartbroken. Eve saw her chance at escape and used it, brushing past Claire and running out of the room. My adrenaline left me and I sank into an empty chair. I could feel my eyes tearing up, and I didn't try to stop them. They ran down my cheeks, gathering to bathe my jaw in salty wetness, and I felt a hand. A small, soft hand that smelt like vanilla swab across my jaw and collect the tears. I opened my eye to see Claire standing, a silvery trail down one porcelain cheek.

"Hey," I gathered her into my arms and pulled her down onto my lap, "What's wrong?"

"I hate to see you so sad." She tried a small smile for me. Tucking her head into my chest, I held her close and kissed the top of the head.

"Don't be sad for me." I kissed her head again and murmured, "Okay? And no more crying," I added on after a second's thought.

She tinkled a laugh and agreed. "Good," I replied and dropped my arms so she could stand up. She was so small I only missed the comfort she provided and the fragile weight of her, not her body heat, as she stood up and went to walk away, casting me a parting smile, small yet dazzling. Then she turned around as though she had had an epiphany, and kissed my cheek. Leaning down, she whispered,

"It won't hurt forever," and walked out the kitchen door before I could reply.


	6. Chapter 6

_I cannot believe her! I really cannot believe her! How could she do that to Michael? He was so sweet, and caring, and kind! What on earth could possess her…? _But she knew; Claire knew what Eve's problem was. Michael was a vampire, and Eve couldn't handle it. Wasn't that, like, the ideal boyfriend for a Goth?

As she made her way to Collage, Claire couldn't help but be pissed at Eve. It was mean and callous and racist, or discriminatory at the very least, but what had Michael ever done to deserve such treatment? He had protected them, given them somewhere to stay, a shelter when things got too hard. All he wanted was the love and affection they should have naturally provided him with - and Eve couldn't even do that! Entering _Chem Lab_, Claire forced herself to focus on what her professor was saying, and put _The Bitch and the Vampire _out of her brain. Okay, that was harsh - really harsh! But what else could she think? Michael adored Eve, and Eve had reciprocated that adoration…until she didn't. She had taken Michael's heart, un-beating as it may be, and stomped on it. _Stop, Claire, it is not your problem, focus! _Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes, and waited for class to finish.

Walking into the Glass House had always made me feel warm. It was home, and the majority of the people she loved most in the world were inside, and whilst they were in there they were safe. Because they were together, and they had each other, and no matter what they would protect each other. But today, all she could remember was Michael's face in the kitchen after Eve's revelation, and it hurt her. It hurt that the man who had been like a brother to her, who had gave her somewhere to stay –at great personal risk- when I couldn't stay in the TPU dorms was being hurt. And Eve was hurting him, and, my best friend or not, that was not okay.

Walking along the hall, I looked into the living-room to see if anyone was there, but it was empty. Turning from the doorway, I walked into a wall of pure Angel.

"Shit, Michael," I gasped, my hand rising to my chest.

"Sorry," he said, trying very hard not to smirk.

"Egotistical jackass," I muttered as I turned my back on him and made my way to the kitchen with Michael trailing behind me.

"Language, Miss Danvers."

I threw a glare over my shoulder, but his smirk only intensified. I walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a Coke. Waiting until Michael was about to take the door from my hand so as to look in the fridge after me, I deliberately closed the door, and moved to stand next to the cooker.

"Oh, come on Claire," he said, laughing. "I was only joking."

He moved towards me, his arm encircling my waist, pulling me towards him, and I leant back on his chest, gripping his forearm which was draped across my collarbone.

"You're only saying that because it's my turn to cook, and you don't want _le diner avec beaucoup l'ail_," I accused with a mock frown and an exaggerated pout.

"True," he agreed, nuzzling my neck, "very, very true." Placing a kiss to the underside of my jaw, he spun me around and raised his head to look into my eyes, giving me a mischievous, panty-dropping grin. Leaning my head into the crook of his neck, I returned his grin with a soft smile of my own. Giving me a look, he slowly lowered his face towards mine. Pressing our foreheads together, he tilted his head until his nose bumped against mine. He repeated the action, replying to my soft chuckle a teasing half-smile. Replacing his half-smile with a honest-to-God megawatt, he bent his head and looked at me from under his lashes, and slowly leant our heads together again. Using his arm around my waist, he tugged me closer, until we were pressed together, thigh to thigh, chest to chest, and my hands raised to rest on his shoulders as he pressed his cheek to mine. Slowly turning his head until his mouth was at the corner of my lips, his pressed a gentle kiss. I dropped my head to press one to his throat, and felt Michael's head turn towards mine, when a throat cleared behind me, and when I twirled my head around I found myself staring into intense brown orbs…

"_le diner avec beaucoup l'ail_" translates into _dinner with lots of garlic._


	7. Chapter 7

"Shane," Claire breathed, "what are you doing home?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be?" I countered, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course not!" She removed herself from Michael's arms, and moved towards me, "I just wasn't expecting you back." Wrapping her arms around my waist, she strained up to lightly brush my lips, but I cupped the back of her head, deepening it. I pressed my lips to hers insistently, sucking and nibbling until I coaxed her lips apart, then my tongue plundered her mouth. I swirled my tongue around every crevice, delving into her mouth with my tongue to flick the tip of it against hers, then I retreated back into my own mouth, coaxing her to follow and then sucked her muscle lightly. _This always makes her so wet. _Releasing her tongue, which she instantly reclaimed, I plunged my tongue forward, then pulled out again, in and out, in and out, an invitation as well as a promise for later. I parted from her lips long enough to see her expression. Her mussed hair, wet, swollen, slightly parted lips broke my composure. I brushed my lips against hers once more.

"Come upstairs?" I begged.

"I would love to," she began, her eyes going to the colour of melted chocolate, "but…" she leant up and kissed me, "it's my turn to make dinner, and I'm always getting on your ca-SHANE!" She squealed when I threw her over my shoulder, "what are you doing?"

"I –my gorgeous girlfriend- am kidnapping you for some _we_ time!"

"But…" she floundered, looking for an excuse, "I'm on dinner-"

"Not anymore," I picked up the phone, and began dialling.

"Who are you calling?" she seethed, frustrated.

"Pizza place," I said, "Medium vegetarian with spicy beef, a large plain with extra cheese, and a medium pepperoni, right?" I asked, looking at Michael. He nodded, smirking in amusement at Claire's indignation over her treatment.

"Shane, I swear that if you don't put me down, you'll be living the life of a mon-Oof!" I moved her so her stomach connected with my shoulder more, jostling her, and then raised my shoulder a couple of times.

"Claire," I mock-admonished, "I'm on the phone - stop being so bad-mannered."

Giving me a two-fingered salute, she crossed her arms and glared up-side-down at me." Smirking, I placed my order. "Fifteen minutes man," I returned the phone to its cradle. I was resisting the urge to glare. What the fuck was that when I walked into the kitchen? The romantic, home-y scene - with _my_ girlfriend. The woman _I_ love. _I couldn't, wouldn't, accuse him of anything, because to accuse him was to accuse Claire, and I know she wouldn't betray me_. We are going to get married, and have a house, and kids, and a dog, and I know that Claire loved me too much to betray me. And I know that Claire knows that I love her too much to ever hurt her like that. She and I are real, and for life. And if she betrayed me with Michael, or anyone else for that matter, I would never get over it. _Never_. So I have to trust that Michael and Claire love each other like brother and sister, and that they would never hurt me like that.

Smacking Claire's ass, causing her to squeal in indignation, "We're going to go, umm, rehash our day to each other," I smirked at Michael and cleared my throat, "It might take a while to get each other up to speed, so we'll see you in the morning." Nodding to Michael, I jogged to the kitchen door, just to hear Claire hiss at me. "Shane, what are you doing?"

"Woman, you didn't have a meal ready for me coming home! Are you going to deny my pleasure as well?" I demanded, teasing her. Having found her historical romance novels –_her porn_- I knew what that sentence would do to her.

"Woman?" Trying to sound angry but coming of as breathless, I knew I had her.

"Yes- woman. _My _woman!"

But as Shane and Claire left the kitchen, neither noticed the look of jealousy or pain on Michael's face. Or the glare he sent at Shane's back.


	8. Chapter 8

Hearing Shane and Claire, with their playful banter and loving glances and intense kisses, made my heart ache. I love Shane, and I love Claire, but was it wrong to resent their happiness? Just a little bit? Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, sipped my blood, and exhaled heavily.

Padding across the kitchen and into the living room, I pulled out my guitar and pulled out a sheet of music paper. Strumming softly, I tried to compose a basic combination, but for months now, my muse had been Eve. Closing my eyes, I pictured her face, but I could only remember it as I had seen her that morning, mascara running, tear stained, and cruel. The tune was light, and loving, like a flowing spring, and her face made me recoil; it didn't fit at all. Closing my eyes, I plucked the strings and hoped for inspiration to come to me. And then the door slammed, and my eyes flicked open, trained on the entrance. I heard boots clomping before I saw her; _Eve_. Opening my mouth, I tried to find something blasé to say; _anything _blasé to say; a comment about the weather, a joke about Claire and Shane, _anything_. But all I wanted to ask was _how was your day? _Or_ how are you?_ But then I remembered the image from moments ago, and I said nothing. I just packed my guitar away, and walked upstairs.

Closing my bedroom door, I leant heavily against it for a moment, took a fortifying breath, and pushed myself forwards. Unbuttoning my jeans, I let them fall to a pile on the floor, too weary to pick them up. Pulling my shirt over my head, I looked up, and saw my image in the mirror; the alabaster white skin that would never tan, the face that would never age, the arms that would never hold a baby of my own. I looked into the mirror and saw a future full of what could-have-been. A brown haired little boy holding my hand, and a blonde haired little girl atop my shoulders, both smiling and laughing, and a woman with her face hidden as she leant against my back with her arms around my waist. But as quickly as the phantom mirage appeared, it was whisked away again, and all I could see was a window. Looking through it, I could see the little boy and girl, in the same pose with another man. As I watched, Eve walked into the room and wrapped her arm around his waist, pecking his mouth lightly, smiling indulgently at the small boy when he made a disgusted sound.

Shaking my head, I blinked until the image disappeared. Crawling into bed, I folded my arms behind my head. Drifting to sleep, I am returned to the first image. And as the woman turned her face towards me, I saw that it wasn't Eve clinging to me as I held our children - it was Claire.

_The house was silent, except for humming coming from the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked cookies came drifting towards me, and I inhaled greedily, already able to taste the gooey softness on my tongue. Shrugging off my jacket, I walked through to the kitchen, eager and curious as to which of my housemates was responsible for such an amazing smell. Because Shane could make amazing chili - but that was all he could make that was amazing. And Eve could make decent spaghetti, but only if Claire was chaperoning her. Claire's food always tasted amazing, but none of his housemates had ever made any sort of sweet before. Opening the kitchen door, the aroma hit me harder than before and I breathed deeply before looking for the creator. His seeking eyes found Claire. A very pregnant Claire._

"_Claire..?" She swivelled around, one hand poised on her bump with a welcoming smile on her face._

"_Michael, honey, you gave me such a fright!" She admonished me gently, as she made her way over, leaning up as far as she could to wrap an arm around my shoulders, and then tugged me down gently for a kiss. It started slow, and chaste, but quickly morphed into something more. At first I was resisted, puzzled as to why Claire would kiss _him_, when he was clearly not Shane. But soon, it didn't matter, because she was soft, and warm, and she smelt good, like sugar and vanilla, and then she did something with her tongue that blew my mind._

_BEEP BEEP BEEP…BEEP BEEP BEEP…_

_Reluctantly parting form her sinful little mouth, I looked around for the source of the beeping. Smiling at me, she moved out of my arms and towards the cooker, removing the chocolate chip goodness from inside. "Claire, we need to leave," I urged her, still looking for the beeping._

"_No, you do," she replied, smiling sadly at me._

"_What?" I questioned. I didn't want to leave. I knew that. This house, with its sunlight flooded kitchen and its pregnant Claire and its cookie smell, were amazing. I loved this Glass House; I didn't want to leave this Glass House. I didn't want to go back to vampires and sombre atmospheres and jealousy and pain. I tried to walk towards Claire so I could take her in my arms, but suddenly she was far away, so far away, and she kept moving further. But it was not just her moving far away, it was the house. The goodness was going and leaving me behind, so I started running. But the more I ran, the further away it seemed, and the beeping was getting louder, and…_

I launched myself up, breathing heavily. Disoriented, I slapped in the vicinity in which I knew my alarm clock to be in, and rubbed sleep from my eyes. Falling backwards into the pillows, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for weirdness, thinking my conscience would berate me but it never did. Because, try as I might to ignore it, that dream felt right. And phantom-Claire felt better than anything I had ever felt before.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ugh, ugh, _Shane_…"

"_Claire…Oh god!_"

Collapsing beside me, Shane pulled me close and nuzzled my neck while we tried to catch our breath. Propping himself on one elbow, he took my mouth in a lazy, exploratory kiss and I kissed him back, flicking my tongue into his mouth, then pulling his lip between my lips and sucking gently. Pulling back, I could feel his eyes on me so I allowed my head to rest against the pillow of his chest as I relaxed, sated and boneless. Sighing, my eyes flickered open and I gave him a questioning look. Cupping his cheek, I smiled softly.

"What's up?" I probed, after a short silence.

"What was that with Michael in the kitchen?" He looked at me through his lashes. "I trust you," he rushed on, "but, that wasn't what I was expecting to come home to." He finished with a deep inhale, and he rolled his shoulders, looking away to the ceiling.

Propping up myself on my elbow, I looked at him enquiringly, "What was what with Michael in the kitchen?" I frowned, trying to remember what _thing_he was talking about.

"You know," he rolled onto his side, and matched my pose. "The whole you-in-his-arms-intimate-moment thing."

I leaned backward, away from Shane, and he gripped my hand, frowning, to stop my progress.

"I don't know what moment your referring to," I said, looking into his eyes.

"Yes, you do." He exploded, "that moment, when I first walked into the kitchen. _That_ moment!" He looked pissed off.

"No, I don't!" I exclaimed, peeved.

"Yes, you do!" Shane insisted.

"No. The only _moments_ that happened in that kitchen, were moments of comfort, because, in case it escaped you notice, your best friends girlfriend broke up with him, and he's heartbroken! He needed to a hug, and the knowledge that if he needs it, someone will listen, and someone cares about how he feels." I exhaled.

"And why," Shane began, "does that person have to be you?"

"Because as far as his emotions go, that fact he's now hemo-dependant clouds your judgement, and makes you an ass." Bolting up, I grabbed my clothes, pulled them on quickly, forgoing the bra and panties.

"See," Following my lead, Shane stands up, and pulls on his boxers.

"See, what?" I ask, completely exasperated.

"When its Michael's emotions, you're willing to listen, but when its mine-" I snort loudly, interrupting him.

"When its mine," he emphasised, "you don't want to listen, because you don't like what I'm saying!" He finished, daring me to deny it.

"Your emotions?" I laugh, "Your emotions?" I throw him a disbelieving. "The only way I could get a love confession was because you thought we were all going to die!" He was ready to interrupt me, "No, I'm not done!" I took a deep breathe. "He is like my big brother, and he is your best friend." I said calmly. "And if there is anyone in Morganville we should trust, it's Michael, Eve, and each other." I look at him, "I love you, and you love me. And you may not trust Michael, but you don't have to; you just have to trust _me!_" I finish with a strained smile, begging him with my eyes to believe me.

"It's the '_like'_ in that statement that bothers me, love." He says unabashed, "And you have too big a heart to lock anyone out." He looked away, and then at me again. "He was going to kiss you. He had the same look on his face that I have every time I see you."

"-"

"No," he gestured for me to stop, "Let me finish!" He waits for me to nod. "I don't want to fight with you," he confesses, "I'm just trying to be honest about how I feel," he pauses, "But if any of it sounded like I was accusing you of anything, I'm sorry!"

"So am I," I fidgeted, "for the, um, emotions comment," I looked up at him.

"Well," he starts, and a mischievous looks comes across his face, "I know a way you can make it up to me…"

"Yeah?" I raise any eyebrow at him, "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Okay," he smirks, "but you have to come over here."

"Ohh," I smile and act coy, "is it a secret?"

He laughs lightly, "No," he pauses, "but," he leaned closer, "it does involve you being _very_naked, and _very_ naughty." He smoulders at me.

Playing innocent, "Well, I don't know about that," moving closer, I trace a line down his torso. "Why would a good, _virginal_girl like me do something so naughty as taking her clothes off?" I ask, suppressing a smile.

"Well, for one," he leant down to whisper in my ear, "You're not all that virginal, _and_," he pauses, drawing up to his full height, "You taking your clothes off for me isn't the naughty part!"

I gasp in mock indignation, "I will have you know that I am a lady!"

"Yeah," he smirks at me, "A lady who not an hour ago was sprawled underneath me with her legs open as wide as she could, begging me to _fuck her harder_," He leant to whisper again, "A lady whom when I requested she suck my cock did so gladly, moaning as she sank to her knees," trailing a finger down my shirt, to my breasts, "A lady who," he continued, circling my nipple, "when I bade her to get onto her hands and knees for me, rolled over and spread her legs wider, gripping the comforter as she dropped her chest to the sheets so she could feel the friction of the cotton scraping against her nipples as I rode her," gripping both my breasts, he pinched my nipples. My knees collapsed beneath me and I rushed to steady them, unable to stop the moan attempting to erupt from my throat.

"_Shane…"_

"Hmm, yes love?" he asked, in a calm tone as though we were talking over breakfast. Picking me up, he dropped me onto his bed, climbed between my open thighs, and pinned my hands to the bed with his own. Then, he started slowly rocking his hips back and forth against my apex, his hardness digging into me, putting pressure against my nub as he nuzzled his face into my breasts, biting and liking gently before capturing a nipple to suckle.

"_Ohh_, oh _god_!" I could feel my wetness pooling at my ripe opening, dribbling over whenever I clenched. Shane picked up his pace, rocking against me harder and faster, and I spread my legs wider, wrapping them around Shane's hips and gripping tightly, giving a new, delicious angle for Shane to thrust against.

"Yes, yes, hmm," Cumming, my back arched violently, and I gave a guttural moan, slumping backward. Trying to catch my breath, I open my eyes and looked at Shane, and gave a lazy smile, which he returned. Rolling him over, I could still feel him hard and ready, so I leant down and kissed him slowly. Rotating my hips, I smiled wickedly, and jumped off him.


	10. Chapter 10

Eve looked over the rim of her coffee cup, reviewing her actions. Truthfully, she hadn't wanted to break-up with Michael. But it wasn't right - they weren't right. She had tried, for so long, to ignore how distant he was. To ignore how reluctant he was to be sexual. To ignore how much more comfortable he was with Claire. And that was the crux of the problem; Claire. Sweet, naive little Claire. Far too sweet to resent, and so cute and loving that resenting her, or being jealous of her, was futile, and the guilt you felt in the aftermath was well-deserved because you could prowl the streets of Morganville for eternity, and you would never find anyone else so capable of compassion, especially after her experiences with Morganville and its natives. For such a tiny person, she had an extraordinary amount of love which she dispensed liberally in much the same way as cheery people smiled. And it killed Eve, because her boyfriend, _her_ Michael, had more in common with Claire, a slip of a girl, than he did with his childhood friend; someone he had grown-up with. And, objectively, Eve could see them making a great couple. Both had loving parents, and were caring to a fault. He had a serious case of _Hero Complex_ going on, and Claire seemed to attract danger like flies to shit. But Claire loved Shane, so she knew her boyfriend had been safe; Claire would never betray her or Shane in such a way. But the problem was, Michael would. Eve could see it in his eyes. If Claire was to offer him a future together, or a night with no-strings-attached, Michael would take either, because he was that enamoured with her; and he didn't even realise just how deep he had fallen. And Claire was so oblivious to Michael's more-than-brotherly adoration, so much so that Eve wasn't sure whether to slap her or sing Hallelujah. But Shane wasn't oblivious, which was how she knew she wasn't insane, or paranoid. She would have laughed if the situation wasn't so disastrous and Soap Opera-worthy: a lifetime of friendship, and it all hung in the balance over the love of a girl.


	11. Chapter 11

_Claire's POV_

"Hey," Claire called as she walked into the Glass House, closing the door behind her quietly, "anyone home?"

Dumping her backpack beside the sofa, she wandered through to the kitchen, blessing central heating as the chill from outside was replaced by an all-over warmth. Unzipping her jacket, she folded it over one of the kitchen chairs, and went over to the fridge, pulling out a soda. Walking over to the sink, she established there were no dishes to be done. Checking her watch, she saw it was a little after four, and decided that it was too early to start dinner because no-one was due in for at least an hour. Leaving the kitchen, she put her soda on the dining table, collected her backpack and began to walk up the stairs, planning to do a load of laundry. For the first time ever, she was regretting that she was so far ahead in her classes, and that Myrnin had stopped giving her 'homework'. Dumping her bag in her room, she grabbed her laundry basket, and quickly changed her bed linen. Dumping the used sheets in her basket, she walked into the hall, and stopped by Eve's door. Turning the handle, Claire spotted Eve's skull-embroidered pop-up laundry basket. Seeing only a few items, she grabbed them and added them to her pile, re-adjusting the basket so it didn't dig into her hip so much. Stopping by Michael's door, she debated whether or not to open it. After deliberating for a few minutes, she decided to go ahead - it was just to collect some laundry, he wouldn't mind. Making up her mind, she turned the door handle, to be confronted with the rear view of a naked Michael...


	12. Chapter 12

_Claire's POV_

_Shit!_ I should just apologise and forget I saw anything! Clutching the door handle in my hand, I decided to just leave and close the door - Michael would never know. I'd knock, ask for his laundry, and everything would be fine. But as I looked at the drops of water collecting on the tips of his hair, then dripping off the darkened strands to roll down his smooth neck, then even further own his muscular back, stalling just before his firm, sculpted ass. I –irrationally- found myself thinking about how he would taste as I used my tongue to gather every drop, tracing them past his firm abs and across his firm shoulders, down to the trail of golden hair she'd sometimes seen as he stretched, when his shirt didn't quite meet his pants. Descending lower and lower, perhaps applying a bit of suction... Shaking her head to rid herself of the images playing through her mind, she turned to close the door, deciding to knock and ask when she heard it: _grunting. Panting. Moaning. __**Her**__ name._ Before she could process, she whipped her head around and focused on all the things she had missed during her distraction; Michael's arm jerking back and forth, head tipped back, legs tensed and spread apart. Feeling her breasts swell and her panties moistening, she listened to the sound his hand made as jerked his cock, feeling like the worst kind of pervert but unable to stop herself. Panting, she watched his hand get faster, her name sounding like a prayer, saw everything in his body tense and listened to his sobbed-moan as he convulsed, hips bucking as he sprayed into a towel. Swaying slightly, she saw his legs buckle as he fell into a chair, laying his head back with his eyes closed, breath exhaling in hard pants. Not giving herself a minute to reconsider, she backed out of the room swiftly, but before she could close the door, she looked up...and saw a pair of bright blue eyes staring into hers.


	13. Chapter 13

_Fuck..._ "Claire!" Jumping up, I grabbed a pair of sweats and pulled them on whilst running out the door, nearly face-planting a wall as I pulled the trousers up my legs. Finally getting them on, I grabbed the banister and ran down the stairs as fast as possible. Quickly scanning the living-room, I saw she was not there, and went to the kitchen, throwing the door open and smacking it against the wall. _I can't believe she saw me wanking, and heard me call out for her. SHIT! _There she was, standing by the window and looking like an angel, the illumination from the suns glow giving her an ethereal quality that couldn't be faked, and suddenly my post-shower "_session_" was all for nothing, because just looking at her had things going on below the belt that made me feel like a thirteen-year-old with a _Playboy, _and fuck me but I let out a moan like I had just came in my pants. Hearing my moan, she turned around, looked at me, and _blushed._ Fucking _blushed._ And damn, but I did nearly lose my load; biting my lip, I pictured Shane in a frilly pink bikini, and that cooled me right down. "Claire," I began, noticing how her blush increased and how red her pouty bottom lip looked because she was biting it, and _I_ wanted to bite it; pull it between my lips and suck on it gently, just like I would her clit until her nectar started to pool. Then I'd plunge my tongue in, and see what set of lips tasted sweetest. _Maybe I could alternate between both until I found my favourite. _Standing there, I was completely pulled-under by my fantasy, imagining her hair in my hands, then her thighs trapping my head with her delicious little body wrapped around my fingers as I pumped her gently, feeling her contract and then spill like a fountain, gentle and unrelenting. "_Claire_," I tried again, my voice hoarse. And then she was in my arms, against the wall, and we were grinding and humping, and there was _so much heat!_ I thought I was being burned to death in the best way possible.

"Claire, I'm home...".


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Thank you for the amazing reviews!**_

"Put me down..." It was said so quietly I hardly heard her. Stepping back, I allowed her to drop her legs from around my waist, running my hands over them as she did so, cupping her ass and squeezing briefly - _then_ I let her go. Stepping out of the warm enclosure her thighs had created, I walked over to the fridge to grab a sports bottle, all the while missing her warmth. Hearing the kitchen door open, I kept my head in the fridge, listening to her laugh and their sweet words, resisting the urge to turn around and remind her how much she missed him five minutes ago.

"Hey, Mikey, you get lost in there?"

Forcing a smile, I look back at him, "Nah, I just didn't want to see your excessive PDA; you were only gone for five hours, man."

"Five hours too long," he whispered, looking into Claire's eyes. I fought the urge to gouge _his_ damn eyes out. "Dude, admit it; she has your balls trapped in her abnormally small fist."

"Hey!" She looks over at me, glaring, and I smirked at her, thanking God and anyone else who is listening that I'm standing behind the island and they can't see the remnants of my boner tenting my sweats. Noticing Shane's absorption with smelling her hair and neck, planting tiny kisses, I try not to let myself growl but I'm only partially successful, because Shane's head snaps round, and Claire looked at me, her big eyes wide with caution. "Sorry dude, but sometimes it's just gotta come out, you know?" Playing it off as a burp, I look at him and he nods.

"It happens, bro," He says, laughing.

Looking between the two of us, Claire scrunches her little nose up and shakes her head, "Eww!" Shane and I look at her and laugh. "'I'm just gonna go up to my room while you love-birds make dinner." Shane lets Claire's waist go and walks over to the fridge, taking inventory to see what Claire can make while he distracts her. "And please," I implore "no sex in the kitchen; its unsanitary." And I doubted my self-control would survive it; walking into here and smelling her sweet scent induced by _him_; no way could I handle that. "Sure thing," Shane says, already preoccupied with putting the mince her held into a pan. Looking back at Claire, I caught her attention and let my eyes run over her, eye-fucking her properly and then I met her gaze again. She looked more than a little flushed, so, winking at her, I walked out the kitchen, grazing the tip of my forefinger along the thin strip of exposed skin at the base of her back. _I won't forget Claire; and I won't let you either._


	15. Chapter 15

For the past few days, Claire had avoided me like the plague. Whenever we had been in a room alone together, she had immediately made an excuse and left; Shane and Eve have never done the dishes so many times in one week. But the avoidance was about to stop. _Now._

I grasped Claire's arm, and pulled her into my room, kicking the door shut.

"Michael," she hissed. "What are you doing?"

"You've been avoiding me," I said calmly.

Meeting my eyes, "Michael, I love you," she began, and hope began to flare within my chest, "but I'm _in love_ with Shane, so this," as she gestured between us, I felt the hope wither and fade, "can't happen, because it would kill him. _And _Eve." She took a deep breath. "I just can't risk it; I'm sorry. She's my best friend and he's my boyfriend; I –_we _can't do this to them. _This," _she paused_, _"just _can't_ happen again. I'm sorry. "

Hurt and anger and bitterness flooded me after her speech, quickly replaced by the urge to _show her. _To show her what was between us, to show her that she can't fight it anymore than I can. Stepping towards her, I started walking her backwards towards my bed. A shocked, wide-eyed look dominated her face, making her look young, and innocent, and_ fuckable._ My erection throbbed, the rigid flesh rubbing against the seam of my pants with every step. With her hands behind her to prop her up, Claire crawled on to the bed slowly, panting. Looking down, I gazed at her chest, the small firm mounds, the slight thrust of her nipples through her silky shirt, the corseted style showing of her small waist, the petite, enticing curve of her hips; the bell-sleeves made her arms and shoulders look feminine and dainty.

"Michael," a breathy plea uttered with her hand on my chest, "this can't happen," she murmured, gazing hungrily at the outline of my cock and biting her bottom lip. Feeling movement, I glanced down and saw her rubbing her thighs together. Smirking, I crawled further on top of her.

"But it's gonna." I promised.


	16. Chapter 16

I pressed my hips into hers, grinding softly, then harder and faster, flexing until she was writhing under me, undulating her hips and panting softly. I _adored _her kittenish mewls, her gasping moans. Eyes locked on her glazed-over orbs, I lowered my mouth and sucked on her lower lip rhythmically before invading her lush mouth with my tongue. Feeling her small hands tangled in my hair, and her sharp, tiny nails graze my scalp, I let out a loud, reverberating moan, and trailed my lips down to her neck and suckled on her pulse, ensuring I broke the capillaries. _Try and hide these from your boyfriend._ As her back arched, my eyes locked on hers, and I thrust harder. My trousers seam was abrading the head of my cock, and my eyes rolled back into my head, the painful pleasure nearly making me come.

Looking down at her, I saw her beautiful golden brown hair spread all across my comforter. I saw her glassy eyes. Her flushed cheeks. Her heaving chest. Her swollen lips. _Mine._ All of it was mine – she was mine. Not Shane's. Never again would she be Shane's. Throwing myself backwards off my bed, I grasped Claire's hips and yanked her closer to the edge of the bed. Unsnapping her button, I yanked down her jeans.

"Michael, what are you doing?" She asked, propping herself up in her elbows.

"What do you think I'm doing?" I ask, eying her hungrily.

"Wait," she pulled her knees up to her chest, and ran her hands over her bare calves. "Let's just pump the brakes for a second," she implored softly.

"No," vehemently I shook my head. "No shaking your head, no stopping, no pumping the brakes!" I looked at her, my face showing my anger. "Me and you – this," I gestured between us, "is going to happen. And it's going to happen now!" I promised softly. Grasping her delicate ankles, I pull her towards me and pressed her knees against her shoulders, then spread her knees apart. Pinning her to the bed and trapping her knees, I dropped to my knees and pressed my face to her panties. Groaning, I felt her wiggle her hips into my face; grasping the crotch of her panties, I ripped them, exposing her to me. "Take your shirt off," I growled at her, "Now!"

Her eyes widened, but she obeyed me regardless. Doing a complicated series of twists, turns and other manoeuvres, she removed her shirt and bra. I moved my hand down to her pussy, "Usually I would take my time… _taste you…._ But I can't wait." Running one finger round her opening, "God, your dripping!" I groaned. Unbuttoning my fly, I aligned her pussy with my cock and rammed forward. "God, so tight! How can you possibly be this tight?" I had waited so long for this; I could already feel my balls tightening. I moved my thumb to her clit, and thrust faster. "_Ohh, gosh, Claire!" Faster and faster and harder and I was coming and…oh god!_ Distantly, I heard a hoarse shout of my name.

Then I heard pounding steps on the stairs… heading right towards my open door.


	17. Chapter 17

Looking down into Claire's eyes I saw how scared – how panicked- she was; it broke my heart. Because there was also regret in her expression. Yet I understood her pain and her panic, because if the mystery stair-runner was Shane or Eve it would kill them – and rip us all apart. And while a part of me hated Eve right now, she didn't deserve this. And despite the fact I had planned his death numerous times in my head this past week, Shane didn't deserve to find us like this either – no matter how much I wanted him to. No matter how much I wanted to show to him that Claire was mine now. Pulling out of Claire's tight sheath, I ignored her gasp and I used my enhanced speed to get to my door before whoever was on the stairs. Shutting it quickly and quietly, I gestured to Claire to throw her clothes on before whoever it was made it to my door, then I grabbed a towel and wrapped it snugly around my hips. "Here," I whispered, tossing her jeans to her from the other side of the room. "The bed," I whisper, alarmed.

"Throw your clothes in your hamper," she responds, buttoning her jeans and knotting her hair into a tight bun to hide its untameable state. I frown, but comply and then turn around to see her stripping the linen off my bed. "What are you doing?" I frown at her.

"Just help me," she hisses, exasperated. Grabbing my pillow, I tear of the pillow case and throw both onto the floor in separate piles. Grabbing the next pillow, I just unfasten its casing and see Claire finally wrestle the duvet out of its cover before my door opens and Shane walks in. "Hey man," I greet him, "what's up?" I act casual to try and quell his look of suspicion, but I don't succeed very well. "Hey baby," Claire coos, dropping my duvet and cover. Grabbing a pillow, she starts stripping it from its case as she walks to Shane. Leaning up to kiss him, she drops the dirty pillowcase into my hamper and brings it with her back to my bed, her stripped pillow joining my three on the floor. Bending down, she picks up the dirty slips and throws them in with the dirty laundry, then pulls the fitted sheet off my mattress.

"I was just looking for Claire," he leans against my door frame, studying us intently, "so, what are you doing? And why is your hair tied up?" he questions, folding his arms.

"My hair kept getting in my face when I was picking up my clothes. I was just going to do some laundry, so I came in to see if Michael had any. He needed to change his bed, but he was about to go in the shower, so I offered to help him to speed up the task."

"You know, I have a load of laundry," he begins, his tone light, "colours and darks and lights. So if you had needed more for a load, you could have checked my hamper." _Shit! _Because that's the type of sweet, helpful, domesticated, perfect girlfriend thing Claire would do, and obviously had in the past. But, she's not our resident genius for nothing. "Michael and I switched; he's on bathroom duty, so I'm doing laundry. I had the rest of today off, so I figured it made sense to just get it done. I was going to get Eve's when I saw Michael was all towelled up and ready for a shower, so I asked for his laundry first. Could you help me get it all down to the basement?" she looked at Shane, her expression hopeful.

"Of course I can babe," appeased, he saunters in to give her a kiss, deepening it when she tries to pull away. Moaning, she breaks the kiss and smiles up at him, "do you want to go get your laundry, and start taking this down the stairs while I help Michael make his bed after I retrieve Eve's hamper?"

"Sure," kissing her again quickly, he grabs my laundry basket and walks away. Following him to the hall, she branches to the right, and I hear the laundry cupboard open, the rustle of disturbed linen and then the pop of the cupboard as it closes. Walking into my room, she tosses the fresh bedding to me, and then goes back out into the hall, heading for Eve's room.

"Claire, where's your hamper?" I hear Shane call from down the hallway.

"I just threw it back in my room, I'll grab it when I grab Eve's," hearing her response, I hang my head. _Yeah, cause you would return the hamper to your room instead of leaving it in the hallway._

"Why didn't you just leave it in the hallway?" he questions softly.

"Because I had things of an _intimate _nature at the top of my laundry pile." She responds primly.

"Do you need me to sort the laundry?" he asks hopefully, "you know how good I am with my hands." I could practically _hear_ his eyebrows waggling; I could imagine Claire's blush.

"Maybe if you do a good job I'll let you give me a demonstration later." My jaw dropped; my heart ached. After what we had just done, she was going to go back to him like it never happened. _Of course you fool – what, did you expect her to want you forever? That she would throw her arms around you and declare her undying love? That she would chose you over Shane?_

I hear her before I see her, lugging Eve's hamper up the hall. Shane meets her at my door and she relinquishes the basket, cupping the back of his head as he gave her a chaste peck. "I'll meet you downstairs soon, okay?" she questions, nuzzling against him.

"Sure," his lips brush her forehead, "I'll meet you down there." She nodded and watched as he walked down the hall, listened to him patter down the steps. Then she stepped into my room, closed over the door and turned the key in the lock, sealing us in together.

I have amended all the previous mistakes in this Fanfic, and I have uploaded chapter 16, so feel free to read the re-edited version. Also, it makes it very hard to improve, etc. without reviews. Your responses are my encouragement.

xx-_LuckyDied_


	18. Chapter 18

Looking at her drawn face, I knew she wasn't going to drop to her knees and confess her love for me. But nothing prepared me for the blow she delivered. "How dare you?" she asked quietly. _How dare I? Was she delusional? _

"Explain." I sounded cold, cruel, but fuck-me, I couldn't care less. The girl I love spread her legs for me and came like a freight train, and then acts like I did wrong?

"How dare you compel me? Manipulate me into doing what you want?"

_What? _"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I was resolved," she began, "to ignore this. You," _ouch,_ "and suddenly I found myself on my back, panties around my ankles, knees pressed to my shoulders, with your cock between my thighs." I laughed mirthlessly.

"All of it your own doing sweetheart. If you didn't want me between your thighs, you should have said something. Because you were right there with me, dripping and wanting. So don't make me the villain, because we are both responsible." During my rant, I had backed her against my door, trapping her between the solid wood and my frigid frame. A fierce roaring in my chest had gotten louder with every word we had spat at each other – and suddenly the atmosphere changed, our death glares softening and becoming less substantial, our tense frames melting into one another. Bending slightly, I locked gazes with her and leaned slowly forward, giving her plenty of time to protest, to stop me- but she never. Capturing her lips with mine, it started slow and sweet, a careful seduction that soon changed into a bruising punishment as her comments resurfaced in my mind. Grasping her hands, I pinned them firmly to the door, entangling our fingers, the gentle movements at odds with our harsh kiss. Breaking apart, we rested our foreheads together, catching our breath. Opening my eyes, I gazed at her. "I love you." I came from my heart, my soul, dragged out from the very core of me.

"I know," she exhaled and dropped her head to rest on my chest. "But it makes no difference," she leaned back to stare into my eyes. "None at all. It can't."

Running her hand down my chest, she gently pushed me away. "Shane doesn't deserve this. I just slept with his best friend – it would tear him apart if he knew." She looked at me, pleading with me to agree with her. "We did it, it was fun." She let out a resigned sigh, "But never again." Her determined face broke my heart, and when she pushed me away to edge out of the door, I let her.

"You can't ignore what is between us forever, Claire. You were seconds away from succumbing again – don't even deny it!"

She paused, but did not look at me. "I'm not; but I love Shane. No matter how strong my feelings for you are, I adore him. And one day our kids might call you 'Uncle Mickey'. He has lost so much, Michael. He won't lose me. He won't lose us. He deserves one good thing in his life – he deserves a family."

I laughed. "_We _are a good thing? _A good family?_ Are you _delusional?_"

Whipping her head around, she stared at me. "No, I'm a bitch. I'm a foul, lying, cheating bitch of a girlfriend. And you're a lying, cheating dick of a best friend. He would kill for us – die for us!" Her chest heaved with the vehemence of her tone. "And he deserves better. But for some reason unbeknownst to me, he wants us. He deems us _worthy._ And the guilt of what we just did is going to burden me forever. But I deserve that, and so do you. Because you can judge me as harshly as you want, but we both betrayed him." The tears streaming down her face felt like a punch in the gut, her quiet sniffles torture. "But we both know how drastic his measures would be if he found it – it would break him. And he has been broken far too much as it is." Turning back towards the door, she threw the door open to find Shane behind it.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: So sorry that it has taken me so long to update – I could bore you with the "**_**why's" **_**but if you are anything like me it just annoys you that you have taken the time to read what I have written and I have taken so long to continue the story. For anyone out there still reading this, I can't apologise enough for my extended absence, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

The look of hurt and betrayal on his face broke me. Tensing his jaw, he turned on his heel and began down the hallway. "Shane!" Regardless of the numbness pervading my limbs, I lunged after him and grabbed his arm. "Shane, please!" And he threw me off. My tears started rolling faster as I watched him take the stairs three-at-a-time. Unable to keep up with his long-legged stride, I crumpled, gripping the bannister. "Please!" I sobbed at his retreating back.

"Please? _Please?_ Please what?" The infuriated glint in his eyes scared me; the shimmer of tears shredded my heart.

"Forgive me!" I gasped through my unrelenting shudders. He started down the hall towards me, and I threw myself onto the wooden floor in front of him, clasping my hands as though in prayer. "Please, I'm begging you." My tears distorted my vision and dripped from my chin, and shuddering heaves racked my whole body.

"Forgive you?" He said mutedly, quietly. Sniffing, I attempted to staunch the salty river and nodded frantically. "For what? For lying to me? For fucking my best friend? For trying to cover it up? For breaking my heart?" The ugly look that twisted his handsome face renewed my sobs, because I knew that I was not forgiven. "Or for begging for my forgiveness with his cum still drying on your inner thighs?" Hearing Shane, _my Shane, _spew such horrible things at me made me heave. He crouched so our faces were level and grabbed my chin gently, the action so at odds with his cruel tone. Catching my eye, he held the contact as I struggled to compose myself enough to breathe. "Hmm? What are you sorry for Claire?" I would have preferred the cruelty he had shown my moments before. Anything but the pleasant, soft tone he usually reserved for idealising about our future. Jerking my chin from his grasp, I wiped my face with my shirt sleeve and used my arms to force my body backwards so as to put some distance between me and this alien Shane. But he followed me. "Come on Claire."

"Everything." I whispered.

"Hmm?" He leaned even closer, backing me into a corner. Shrinking into myself, I pulled my knees to my chest and turned my body away from his.

I cleared my throat and muttered a slightly more audible: "Everything."

He leaned back, away from me, and I relaxed my tense posture slightly. "Everything," he muttered to himself, rolling it on his tongue. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up so I was standing right in front of him. "Everything." He clenched his hands around my shoulders, digging his fingertips in and shook me hard enough to make my teeth rattle.

"Stop," twisting, turning, I tried as hard as I could to throw his hands of me but he didn't relent – if anything, the tightened his hands even more. "Please Shane, I know I hurt you, but please, let me go." Grabbing his wrist, I tried to pry his hands from me whilst I trying to stop my legs from buckling from the pressure.

"Stop? STOP?!" Giving me one last shake, he pushed my body away from his, the force throwing me into a wall. The impact of my back against the papered plaster winded me, the knock to my head made my brain feel fuzzing and throb. Clutching my abused skull, I felt my stomach plummet when I felt sticky liquid. Pulling my fingers away wet, I saw the blood coating my fingers. Then, I saw nothing at all.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: So sorry about the VERY lengthy delay. However I am wading through the most stressful academic year of my life and my leisure pursuits have had to be put on hold until I had the time to put effort into them and do them justice. However, soon the year will be over and I will be able to devote more time to my writing, so you can soon expect regular updates.**

**Just to be clear, irregardless of how long the time between posts, I will never abandon this fic. I may suffer from writer's block, or, as it was recently, I may just not have had the time to devote to it, but I WILL finish it – I just won't do it half-heartedly.**

"All done, sweetheart." The small, plump nurse smiled kindly at me. Her short, curly white hair vaguely resembled my grandmothers – it was the only thing in the sterile room around me a that was even remotely comforting. Belatedly, I realised she was gesticulating with two bottles and speaking at me. I was not taking in a word.

"Thank you, ma'am." I replied, tentatively prodding my stitched scalp in queasy surprise; I had not realised how big the gash was. Tracing them gently, I realised I had to have at least fourteen stitches. Sliding off of the bed, I had to grab the frame to stop myself keeling over; the room was spinning around me, and it felt like I was in a fun-house looking through cotton wool. Taking a deep breath, I ignored the urge to vomit and the heavy, leaded feeling in my stomach, and slowly made my way out of the ward.

"Dear, you forgot this!" Snapping my head around quickly to the direction of the voice, my stitches pulled and a sharp, stabbing pain lanced through my scalp. I pretended that was the reason for my wince. Standing right behind me was the kind Granny nurse, but she was too close; far, far too close. Grasping the bagged, bloody bundle and the paper bag she held in her hand, I took it murmured a quiet "Thanks." Walking away as quickly as I could, I found Michael anxiously pacing the waiting room.

"Hey," I tried for a little smile, but it was more of a grimace.

"_Claire!"_ The agonised relief in his voice made me want to cry and his strong arms enveloped me in a tight hug that allowed me to feel safe for the first time since the whole mess began. Breathing in the familiar smells of Michael and home, I slipped my arms around his waist to hug him back and relaxed against him. Pulling back, he scanned my pale, tired face.

"Are you ready to go home?" I nodded mutely. Slipping his arm around my shoulders, he pulled me into his side and led me to the elevator. Glancing again at my pale complextion, "Do you want to take the stairs?"

"Please." Gently kissing the crown of my head, he walked me to the sign-littered, heavy door with the **Stairs** plaque, pushing it open so I could go before him.

"Thank-" My gratitude was cut-off by a yelp as Michael scooped me into his arms in mid-sentence. "What are you doing?" I wrapped my arms around his neck and gripped his t-shirt in my fist, creasing it.

"Well, since you seem to be mortally clumsy, I figured I would lend you a helping hand to make sure you made it down the stairs in one piece."

"Your funny," I deadpanned. "You're a funny, funny, witty man. Now let me down!"

"No."

"Michael," I started squirming.

"I'd stop that unless you want me to drop you."

"You wouldn't!" I stared at him, aghast, until he relented.

"No, I probably wouldn't. _If_ you stop squirming. Will you, Claire?" He batted those long, dark lashes at me. "Will you behave and stop squirming?"

I bit my lip before answering. "Only if you renege on your statement. I am not clumsy!"

"Uh huh. Because _everyone _lands themselves in A&E on a regular basis."

"It's not like I didn't have help!" I regretted my words instantly. The light, warm atmosphere we had shared was now tense and frigid. "Michael, you couldn't have done anything." I said gently. Stepping out of the glare of the hospitals outside security lights, his face became shadowed. It didn't matter; I could still read him like a book, I could still feel the tension coiling his muscles.

"I should never have left you alone with him. Not after he found out. I know how volatile his temper can be, and I let you go after him anyway, because I didn't want you to hate me. To blame me for the fallout."

Shifting the balance of my weight to his right arm, he balanced us against the car door before fishing his keys from his pocket. After depositing me in the passenger seat with all the care and tenderness one would use with a new born, he made his way around the car to the driver's side. The atmosphere in the car was not exactly peaceful; but it was quiet. Neither of us said anything, because what could we, would we, even say? Leaning my head against the cold glass window, I let the mundane car sounds and feel of moving car lull me into a sleepy, drowsy state that you can only really reach when you know you're safe, and all I wanted was my comfy bed, Michael and some of the tablets Granny-Nurse sent home with me so I could ignore the last few hours and relax in sleepy-safe contentment.


	21. Chapter 21

_Blood soaking my hair and vomit spewing from my mouth, I ignored Michael, standing a respectable half-metre away, clutching a bottle of water. "Here," he removed the cap and offered the cool liquid to me, urging me to drink. Feeling it settle in my stomach like an over-filled water balloon, I slowed my gulps to sips and moved to lean my back against the wall and away from the mess on the steps._

_Setting down the half-empty bottle, my eyes traced Michael as he can towards me and kneeled down._

_Closing my eyes, half not wanting to hear the answer, I asked, "Where is Shane?". _

_Michael's jaw tightened. Not meeting my eyes, he gently probed my scalp, inspecting the damage. His voice was full of disgust and loathing. "He left." I had not even heard the door open or close. After urging me forward to look at the damage to my head under better light, he had declared we were going to the Emergency Room. _

"_Don't worry," he soothed, one hand on the wheel, one hand manipulating the edge of the towel I was using, to staunch the flow of the blood, against my forehead to mop up some blood that I had not bothered to stop dripping into my eye. "You are showing up with a vampire; they won't ask questions." He had read the look on my face. Irregardless of what he did, he only did it because I cheated on him and I would be signing his arrest warrant if I told the Hospital; they would undoubtedly call the Police and Shane would be tried for assaulting the only human the Founder had taken under her protection in around fifty years. Nodding, I focused on keeping my eyes open as the car began spinning faster and faster like a demented version of a carousel…_

Throwing myself forward in bed, I scanned the room quickly, trying to find the source of my panic. Michael was lying beside me, on top of the covers with a two-piece set of pyjamas on. Considering all we had done with each other lately, the conservative measures seemed ridiculous. When I had woke up, so had he, and he started running his hand up-and-down my arm in an effort to calm me. Hushing me softly, he gently tugged on my bicep make me lie down, encircling my waist with his arm as I relaxed into the pillows. "What's wrong?"

Looking at him, eyes full of sleepy concern, my heart melted. "Nothing." I said softly, trying to placate him. "I had a bad dream, that's all. Go back to sleep."

Smoothing my hair back, he placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and nuzzled into my neck, his arm re-encircling my waist as he returned to his dreams.

Lying there, safe and secure, I tried to grasp the feeling and imprint it in my memory. Because I knew that I would have to see Shane again, and soon. And I had the feeling that afterwards, I wouldn't feel safe for a while.


	22. AN

Sorry, but this is not a new chapter (though there will be a new one in the next few days), and I know AN's are against the rules but I do intend on replacing this with an actual update soon.

However, I was recently asked by a reviewer if the story was over – it is not. I did have the whole story planned out, and the next few chapters written, however in light of Shane's reaction in _Bitter Blood_, I decided to rework my chapters so (hopefully) the characters were not too OOC. But I have hit MAJOR writers block and I hope that you can understand that that, coupled with my obsession with making the fic as good as possible (for all you wonderful readers who keep reviewing and encouraging me), producing the new chapters has really taken some time and brain power.

But there will be a new update soon! And the next few chapters are written, so the updates should be fairly frequent.

Again, sorry for the author's note.

P.S. If you were interested in a Shane's POV chapter, perhaps in the aftermath of the revelation and the accident, could you drop me a review and I promise to try it? I just think it would be really interesting, but if you think it would interrupt the flow of, or not add anything to the story, then I won't write it.


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